


And Then The Ninja Arrived…

by Random_Nexus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Inspired By Tumblr, Ninja, Original Fiction, Requires Belief Suspenders, Tumblr Prompt, writing-prompt-s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/pseuds/Random_Nexus
Summary: Stealthy warriors of great skill have gathered from all over the world for a special mission... and then the Ninja arrived...Written for the prompt:  "Every country has ninjas but the world only knows about Japan’s because theirs suck." -Writing-prompt-son Tumblr





	And Then The Ninja Arrived…

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt in passing and saved it to a document as a 'maybe' prompt to use, but once the ideas started cooking in the back of my fic-brain, my muse would not let it go. So, once I started this supposedly quickie fic, I spent way more time with google translate and similar sites than I ever expected for such a short story. I officially apologize to anyone whose language I've mangled, and do please comment with proper spellings or word usage if you know them—I'm totally open to correction on these things! Hope this amuses some of you, the mental image sure tickled me greatly. Oh, and I apologize to any ninja who might be offended by this _completely fabricated_ story... please, no shuriken to the back of the head.

Adofo, one of the best of the _Kivuli Askari_ , the ‘shadow warriors’ of eastern Africa, crouched amidst the topiary and flowers, body utterly still in relation to the greenery around him, his very breathing in time with the evening breezes. Ten meters to his left, he could almost make out the _Stulþr-vorðr_ in one of the evergreens, one of the ‘stealth wardens’ of Norse legend, passed along amongst those of the various secret sects around the globe who would be forever tainted by the now-mainstream term ‘ninja’. Those ancient Japanese had managed to be excellent at so many things, but not in the training of their most secret warriors; every other version of that type of subtle combatant were thereafter on their honor to be even more efficient and effective.

Though he could not be sure, Adofo suspected the essentially invisible person blending into that tree was the _Stulþr-vorðr_ named _Þögn_ or ‘Silence/Silent one’. She was, indeed, a legend amongst those of their calling, just as the Hindi _Yodha chupke_ or ‘Warriors by/of stealth’ had given them Saaya, whose name meant ‘shadow’. To this day, no one even knew if Saaya had been male or female, let alone what they looked like. Adofo wondered if any of that sect were present, or if they would even know it if so.

Adofo’s partner, Johari, was to be positioned nearly opposite him, her specialty being the silent sting of a blow dart—whether to kill or subdue—which required she be at a better vantage point. Adofo would be targeting the bodyguards. Although, he wondered if the others unexpectedly present would be focused on the same target as he and Johari. He would owe Johari a boon, then, because she had suggested they plan on there being others sent to the same purpose and Adofo had dismissed the notion with mild humor. That reaction, he humbly acknowledged, was why he was only _one o_ the best, rather than _the_ best. He would strive to better himself, then, as he had always done.

Two dark-suited bodyguards exited the building, pausing to look around them, and then the target, followed by another two bodyguards. Once upon the walkway toward the vehicles awaiting at the bottom of the gentle slope, the bodyguards remained loosely grouped around the target. Adofo sneered a little within the camoflauge of his thin cloth mask; had he been in charge of that target, he’d have had the man wrapped in a bullet-proof vest and more closely surrounded by his guards. But then, this oversight only made Adofo’s and Johari’s tasks all that much easier.

A leaf fluttered in the breeze, flipping right into the gap between three major branches where Adofo was peering out at the planned path of his target, and pasting itself across Adofo’s face. He caught it, moving slowly to avoid detection, and would have cast it aside had he not noticed odd markings on it.

Words, actually, etched into the empty places between the veins in the dry leaf. In Swahili, no less. _[Wisdom dictates we five work in harmony. You two take main target, I the foremost guards, Coyote the hindmost. To refuse, cast this leaf away. – Þögn.]_

Adofo felt a deep pleasure in knowing he had guessed the identity of their fellow, but a small amount of professional excitement to know the most gifted shadow warrior of all the First Nations tribes—using the traditional name ‘Coyote’—was present somewhere, as well. They could not fail.

The evening breeze gusted, causing the target to slow as he reached up to keep his ludicrous comb-over of thinning blondish-grey hair from flying over to the other side of his head. Adofo tensed, the placement could not have been more perfect, really. Glancing across the ‘playing field’ with keen eyes, he spotted Johari as the merest hump of darkness along the roofline overlooking the paved walkway; if she had risen enough to be seen, she was about to act.

In the tree where he’d barely been able to see Þögn, Adofo saw a subtle shift in her position had occurred, no doubt preparatory to acting.

Wherever Coyote hid, he had no clue—as it should be.

The moment gelled, it was time, and their target’s bodyguards were just enough off-pace from their charge to provide enough room to efficiently remove them all without fouling each other’s aim, or so it appeared to Adofo.

Suddenly, there was a burst of white smoke simultaneous with a startling _BANG_! Instantly, as they’d been trained, the bodyguards snapped to, guns out as they surrounded the target more closely. Even as they moved, a half dozen dark-clad shapes leapt through the bushes—one nearly brushing against Adofo in his own hiding spot—four wielding long, slightly curved swords and the other two with nunchaku and shuriken.

Adofo sighed in nearly silent frustration. Of course, the ninja had arrived.

Less than five minutes later, after a blur of varied actions and not a few soft-spoken curses in multiple languages, the target, all four bodyguards, and six ninja were scattered across the walkway and adjacent lawn. Before anyone had managed to arrive in answer to the single barked alert from one of the quicker-thinking bodyguards, a lithe shape dressed in greys and dusty browns emerged from the shadows. Adofo, already joined up with Johari and about to slip back the way they’d come, paused long enough to watch the one he knew must be Coyote take up one of the bodyguard’s guns and put a bullet in each of the ninja corpses, after which he carefully replaced it where it had originally fallen and loped silently away again. Adofo felt the tiniest rush of something like star-struck excitement at seeing such a legend with his own eyes, but that didn’t stop him from joining Johari in vanishing like two swirls of dust on the night breeze.

The ninja clans would complain about the contretemps, no doubt. Nevertheless, they who were known all over the world as the historical experts in stealth and skillful assassinations would, yet again, take the blame for a job they had, in actuality, nearly bungled. Since they could never explain the truth, and the actual experts in the craft would never be so foolish as to allow themselves to be so well known, the world would never know the truth.


End file.
